


What was on your mind

by BirdLittle



Series: a slice of spiderio [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bottom Peter Parker, But only a little, Explicit Sexual Content, Handcuffs, Light BDSM, M/M, Not Spider-Man: Far From Home Compliant, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Post-Spider-Man: Far From Home, Power Bottom Peter Parker, Prompt Fic, Quentin Beck Is a Good Bro, Sex, Sexual Content, Top Quentin Beck, Tumblr Prompt, cus beck lives, ive been informed this counts as, oh and peter is an adult, plot doesnt matter, takes place some time after ffh, well. makeshift handcuffs. they use ties okay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-01
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:07:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26748529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BirdLittle/pseuds/BirdLittle
Summary: Quentin Beck and Peter Parker celebrate their one year anniversary.or: Peter makes gracious use of Quentin's tie on Quentin himself
Relationships: Quentin Beck/Peter Parker
Series: a slice of spiderio [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2061984
Comments: 8
Kudos: 43





	What was on your mind

**Author's Note:**

> based on this random prompt from Tumblr: “You’ve been giving me bedroom eyes for the past half an hour - time to show me what, exactly, was on your mind.”

It was their first big anniversary. One year.

Well, one year plus those 14 months of reconciliation, Quentin counted, and that month or 3 before of straight up fighting, physically and verbally. Plus their time in Europe. So it’s really almost been two years, give or take. But one year, of actually being together, as a couple. Despite everything, somehow, actually caring for one another, and loving each other.

And Peter was a bit disappointed.

No, of course he didn’t say it out loud, Peter Parker was nicer than that, and frankly a bit of a push over at times, but for a split second, his eyes told the truth. Quentin could pin-point the moment very clearly. When he said they’ve got a dinner reservation, and stopped his boyfriend from climbing onto his lap.

Quentin thought that a nice calm evening at some fancy restaurant they could only afford twice a year, with flowers and a long walk would be a nice anniversary. Dressed a bit fancy, in suits or other, and making fun of the _actual_ rich bastards that dined around them. To top it all off a bottle of something stronger and an expensive hotel room, so they wouldn’t have to clean up the next day. It was what Quentin did before, only varying in how much he spent, and it worked pretty well for the most part.

But then again, he was usually dating someone within a decade of his own age. Not someone who was just about to push the 20 year mark.

Guess Peter had something else in mind. Something that Quentin only picked up on, as they ate dessert. How Peter stared at him, eyes roaming, pausing on his lips. How he blushed whenever they made eye-contact, eyes shining with that _something_ , that Quentin really should have gotten familiar with over the past year. How he guided Quentin’s hand to his waist as they walked, while also pulling the man along to hurry, making excuses about how it was ‘cold’ and he just wanted to hurry up and ‘relax’.

Right. _Relax_. That’s what the kid wanted.

The hotel corridors were even warmer than the lobby. Or maybe Peter was just warm enough for both of them, staying close to Quentin all the way from the front desk to their room’s door. He hugged the man from behind as Quentin asked for their key, and pressed him head into Quentin’s shoulder in the elevator. Sure he didn’t _do_ anything to speed up their evening, but Quentin could tell. Loosening his tie and tugging off his jacket before even reaching the room, Peter seemed hot and bothered for a whole other reason.

“Holy sh— Look at that view!” Peter rushed inside the instant the door opened, throwing his jacket rather careless onto the sofa, for the first time that night properly leaving Quentin’s side, “Are we on the side of the sunrise?”

Quentin shut the door behind him, softly locking it, “Of course. Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

He watched with amusement as the kid walked along the large wall sized window, pressing his palms to the glass and peering down every once in a while, maybe spotting something of interest. Although, Quentin had to admit, the view _was_ pretty good. Even at night, the city shun bright, full of life, a glittering skyline right outside. The city that never sleeps.

And Quentin’s own beautiful boyfriend right in front of that view.

Taking off his own jacket, and tossing next to Peter’s, Quentin slowly approached the younger man, rolling up his sleeves on the way. Peter must’ve have heard him, super senses and all that, because he didn’t seem at all surprised when Quentin came up behind to rub his shoulders, and only relaxed in the man’s hold.

After a minute or two of calm silence, Quentin spoke, moving his hands down to hug Peter’s waist, “One year, huh?”

Peter hummed in response, smiling at Quentin through the reflection, and almost eagerly leaning back into the man’s hold, bringing his own hands up to hold the arms around him.

“You have fun?” Quentin asked, even if he partially knew the answer.

“Yeah. It was really nice actually. Didn’t expect it.”

Actually, Peter was probably telling the truth, the kid couldn’t lie to save his life, and had the poker face of a six year old. That fact alone was enough to make Quentin’s chest glow, and he openly smiled, though he embarrassingly hid his face in Peter’s curls like a six-grader. “Good.”

Judging by the way Peter giggled, means he didn’t hide fast enough. Oh well. Peter really deserved to know how happy he made him. And anyway, Quentin had something funny of his own to point out as well.

“So, Pete,” He started, pressing a chaste kiss to his boyfriend’s temple, “What were you thinking about?”

“Hm, nothing much.”

“Sure. _Nothing_.” Quentin continued his feathery kisses, leading a trail down to Peter’s jaw, and hands drifting lower, “Honey, you’ve been giving me bedroom eyes for the past two hours - time to show me what, _exactly_ , was on your mind.”

——

Okay, so Quentin _did_ ask. He really should have expected this.

And yeah, maybe he expected something a little closer to their usual, with only just some small other new kink thrown into the mix. But this was _quite_ different.

Then again, he did say yes. And fuck, it was kind of ridiculously hot.

Once the fun started, Peter didn’t even break a sweat to get Quentin to where he wanted. Holding the man’s wrists, walking him backwards towards the bed, before spinning Quentin around and, with probably very minimal strength, pushing him face down. Quentin wouldn’t have been able to stop it even if he tried, but oh he didn’t really want to either.

Very quickly a smaller body straddled his, and quick hands moved around his own, guiding them onto his back, next to each other, before something soft and silky encircled them. Peter’s tie. Christ, if Quentin hadn’t made them wear something formal for dinner, what would have Peter used then? At least the fabric was soft, and the make-shift handcuffs were _just_ not tight enough to hurt if Quentin didn’t pull. But he did, of course, just to test it.

“Red-yellow-green, yeah?” Peter suddenly murmured into his ear, having moved in the time it took Quentin to realise that the tie was unbreakable.

With a chuckle, Quentin nodded, “Yeah, yeah. Green.”

“Good.” Then the little tease that he is, Peter lightly nipped at Quentin’s earlobe, kissing the same spot right after, and moved off him. Quentin didn’t even get to look around, before he was being rolled over and onto his back, legs still hanging off the edge of the bed. Luckily it was a damn big bed. And he trusted that Peter wasn’t gonna let him fall off either.

But he was also not in the best position for _things_ to happen, “Want me to move up?”

“Don’t worry,” Peter answered, already propping up some pillows by the headboard, “I got you.”

“You got me how—“ And then the kid reached under Quentin’s armpits, and lifted. Right, super strength. Peter didn’t even grunt from the effort, just easily dragged a man twice his weight and even managed to slowly lower him down.

“What?” Peter laughed, still leaning over him, “Forgot I can throw a bus?”

“Forgot how amazing you are, sweetheart,” Oh, and the kid still blushed every time. Seeing as Peter was caught off guard, Quentin managed to sneak in a kiss, nothing more than a peck, which was still cut short by a rather strong finger on his chin. Half groaning, half chuckling, he let himself be pushed back down.

Eyes darting from Quentin’s eyes to his lips down to his chest and back up, Peter whispered, “Not yet.”

“God, why did I ever agree to this?”

“Maybe you like me too much,” Peter moved to straddle him again, one hand quickly undoing a few buttons on Quentin’s shirt. “But… I’m pretty sure you’re enjoying this too.” And with a down right evil smile, Peter rolled his hips back.

The groan that was pushed out of Quentin was completely involuntary. Then again, through the sudden haze that blurred his vision, he was pretty sure Peter had to bite his own lip to not make a noise. Given the pressure on his own crotch, at least he knew they were both just as affected.

Nimble fingers quickly undid the rest of his shirt, and though Peter couldn’t quite take it off him without first untying Quentin’s hands, he still pushed out as far open as he could, only leaving the tie hanging loosely off Quentin’s neck. All the while, pretty little Parker still sat fully clothed.

Well, the most he could do really was ask nicely. “Pete, I can’t be the only one with my shirt off.”

Peter had the audacity to just smirk, leaning down to kiss his chest, hands roaming across the rest of his torso.

“C’mon, honey…” He felt more than saw Peter kiss up higher, felt the kid’s lips curl up in a smile against his skin, a kiss and lick at his left nipple, a thumb brushing over his right. Then there was the one hand that came to dangerously twist itself up in Quentin’s tie. “Peter?”

The hand tugged. Quentin followed.

His body barely lifted from the mattress before wet lips crashed onto his, demanding, wanting, taking. Well, Quentin wasn’t one to kiss softly. He pushed back, opening his mouth, inviting and giving. The tie that was still holding him up cut into his neck a bit too harshly, a dull pain amidst everything else, but Quentin wasn’t going to complain. Frankly, lying under his dear boyfriend, while the latter held him up by a tie around his neck, other hand carefully cradling his face, and rolled his own erection into the man’s, was a wish Quentin never even _knew_ he had.

Yeah, Peter was right. He was enjoying this.

But he also just really wanted to get Peter’s shirt off. It was unfair, alright?

With a gentle bite at the boy’s lips, Quentin pulled back as much as he could, “ _Now_ , can you please take your shirt off?”

Peter giggled, but with one last peck complied. Letting Quentin drop back down, and with shaking hands, Peter undid his own button up, disposing of it to somewhere off the bed. They’ll dig it up in the morning. Hopefully.

Quentin still marvelled at the young man above him. Thank god whatever spider gave Peter that sculpted body; a perfect mix of muscle and lithe. Christ, so maybe he regretted getting Peter’s shirt off. After all he couldn’t actually _feel_ him nor run his hands down the kid’s curves, now could he?

However, a bit of pressure on his jaw suddenly crashed him back down to the present, and with little resistance, Quentin let his agape mouth be closed shut. Peter sat blushing, the hand he used to stop Quentin from drooling now brushing the man’s beard.

“You asked.” He mumbled.

“Well, it was worth it.”

Peter only blushed harder, hand covering Quentin’s face, but not strongly enough for Quentin not to be able to shake it off. Making eye contact again, they both chuckled, and probably in response, or to keep the mood going, Peter ground down harder, moaning almost louder than the man below him. But only another second or two later and it seemed like the kid had had enough.

Hasty fingers made quick work of both their pants, again tossing them off hazardously somewhere off the bed. Reaching over to the nightstand, Peter pulled out the hotel provided lube and condoms, and almost fell over taking off his own underwear while also rubbing at Quentin’s hard-on through the man’s underwear, which he refused to take off no matter how much Quentin pleaded. That little _brat_.

A soothing kiss made up for it though, as Peter coaxed Quentin’s mouth open with his tongue, climbing back over him, and only pulling away to twist the lube’s cap open.

“You gonna—?”

“Well, you can’t do it, can you?” Peter smirked, kissing the man’s nose when he rolled his eyes.

Coaxing three finders in lube, he reached back. Peter didn’t hesitate to push the first digit in, huffing out a breath of air, other hand momentarily grasping rather harshly at the sheets next to Quentin’s head. All while the man could do nothing but watch; watch his beautiful boyfriend slowly come apart, gasping and moaning, and fuck if Quentin didn’t moan at least once with him. He was so _fucking_ hard, how was he _this_ hard? If Peter doesn’t touch him soon he might as well just die there.

At some point, Peter must’ve added the second finger, because only now, when the kid practically crashed down onto his chest, did Quentin notice him sliding in the third. Panting heavy, Peter held onto Quentin like he was his lifeline, nails digging in a slight bit too harshly, but oh did that only keep Quentin tense and ready for was to come. He tried his best to roll his hips up to find at least some friction, only to be reminded how helpless he was at the moment, left to watch pretty Peter finger himself open, and unable to do anything otherwise.

The room remained silent, only their ragged breathing and occasional whimpers or grunts filling the empty space. Maybe it was another minute or maybe just a few seconds of that tantalising torture, but finally, _finally_ , Peter sat back up straight, and wiped his fingers on Quentin’s shirt, mumbling something along the lines of ‘it washes out anyway’.

Fingers fumbling at the hem of the man’s underwear, Peter dragged them off without much thought, the previous teasing nature now almost completely gone. Faltering for only a moment at Quentin’s cock, Peter ripped open a condom packet and went through the usual motions at lightning speed. Although Quentin couldn’t care less; the feeling of Peter slicking him up was a pleasure so sudden he threw his head back, arms flexing around the tie, probably enough to bruise.

He barely registered the lips against his, before a raspy voice spoke, “Ready?”

“You have no idea, yeah...”

Peter smiled against his lips, and sat up, aligning himself over Quentin’s crotch. In just two tries, he felt a warm tightness around him, and Quentin watched, in awe as always, as Peter lowered himself, moving slowly as to feel every inch of Quentin inside him. As excruciatingly slow as Peter was moving, it was also a sight too beautiful for Quentin not to appreciate; his boyfriend, taking his whole cock in, like a good boy.

By the time Peter was fully seated, they were both panting, and the kid’s eyes were scrunched up, every little shift drawing a pleasant noise from him, as he adjusted to the intrusion.

“Honey?” Quentin grunted, trying his best to stay still.

Peter just nodded, a quiet whisper of ‘yellow’ and a tight smile on his lips. Were Quentin’s hands free, he would squeeze Peter’s thigh in reassurance, hold him by the waist, or maybe tug Peter down for a gentle, soothing kiss.

But he couldn’t. Peter was the one in control here. Quentin couldn’t do anything to help.

If he wanted a calming kiss Peter would have to come get one himself, but apparently, he was good. Within a minute he began gently rocking back and forth, slowly letting Quentin’s cock move inside him, hands resting on the man’s stomach, eyes still shut. And when Peter gained a bit more confidence, lifting himself up higher and moving back down faster, sudden gasps and louder moans began escaping his pretty lips. Even if with one hand he still held down Quentin’s hips, keeping them at the same pace.

Well, Quentin didn’t bother fighting it, he’d only lose. Only lifted a knee to nudge Peter from behind, causing the latter’s eyes to flutter open. Through glassy eyes, Peter looked down at him, chest heaving with ragged breaths, smirking when Quentin groaned rather loudly too.

By now almost bouncing up and down on Quentin’s cock, Peter leaned forward, bringing their faces as close as possible without slowing down. Shaking hands grasped at the tie around his neck again, and God that pressure was only fastening the building warmth in Quentin’s stomach.

“Quin…” Between breaths, Peter moaned his name like a prayer, “‘M close…”

“Me too, _fuck_ …”

Two gentle tugs on the tie and a questioning look from the kid prompted Quentin to eagerly nod, unsure of what it was exactly that Peter was asking about, but somehow feeling it would be a pleasant surprise.

And oh fuck, yeah, okay.

The next time Peter snapped his hips back down, he pulled Quentin up and towards him. Tie twisted up in Peter’s fist, other hand gripping the man’s shoulders, Peter easily hoisted Quentin up, till they both sat up straight. The momentarily lost rhythm picked up again, only this time, their bodies pressed flush together, the sound of skin moving against skin loud, warm breaths mixing in the air between them.

Darting forward, Quentin caught the boy in an open-mouthed kiss, sloppy and messy but needy and desperate. Again, he frustratingly tugged at his restraint, even as Peter’s hands roamed free on his chest and shoulders, one hand eventually settling to grip at his hair, the other wrapping around, and bringing them even closer if possible.

Moving faster, _harder_ , Peter drove them to their orgasms, and wasn’t _that_ a thought to cum on? Peter taking all control, tying up Quentin up, using his strength on him, rendering the man practically useless, and yet still being so beautifully split open on the man’s cock, making all those pretty noises and—

The only warning Quentin could manage was a particularly hard bite on Peter’s bottom lip before his orgasm suddenly hit him like a train, and he buried his face in the younger man’s neck, trying to catch his breath, body going slack. With Peter’s strength, he held them both up, still moving, chanting Quentin's name. Though almost immediately afterwards, he suddenly cried out himself, nails biting into Quentin’s shoulder, and a warm liquid gushed onto their stomachs.

Loosening his grip, his hold, and well, his entire body for that matter, Peter let them both fall down into the mattress, still hugging Quentin, with probably as much strength as his post-orgasm self could muster. As their heartbeats slowed and normal breathing regained, Peter shifted to let Quentin’s cock slip out of him, whining at the movement, before tucking himself into Quentin’s side, one leg swung over the man’s waist, giving him a full-body hug.

Neither spoke, but neither wanted to move either, energy completely drained. The most they did was tilt their heads towards each other, simply to admire.

“So, have fun?” Peter mumbled.

“It was really nice actually. Didn’t expect it.” Quentin quoted the boy back his own words, which while it got him a playful smack on the chest, it also earned him Peter’s giggle.

Coming down from his high, Peter pushed himself up onto an elbow, his usual energy once again resurfacing, “Wanna watch a movie?”

“Only if you untie me, so I can cuddle the crap out of you.”

And in that moment, Peter’s smile alone was enough to outshine the sun. “Deal.”

**Author's Note:**

> boy oh BOY - feedback? please?  
> I haven't written smut much, so this was also good practice. let me know if something felt off or was incorrect 
> 
> and please correct grammar/spelling mistakes <3


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